


hey no offense but

by sumaru



Series: it's probably about sports [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4256727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumaru/pseuds/sumaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Man, this stupid joke is played out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hey no offense but

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "hey no offense but [just starts screaming]"

_What the hell_ , Oikawa thinks desperately.

 

Or at least he tries to form a coherent thought, but it’s all the strength in his arms to grip the sides of the desk as he lifts his legs, spreads them wider as Ushijima’s fingers tighten their hold, the blunt fingernails leaving marks on the soft skin of his thighs. Oikawa’s jersey is hiked up, the hem stuffed into his mouth making it hard to breath, and his lower back is pressed painfully on the hard surface of the rickety desk; he feels like at any moment it’s going to collapse underneath him. Lube runs uncomfortably down his ass. It seemed like only a minute ago that he had a snarl on his mouth and all his pride on the tip of his lips, but Ushijima had swallowed them whole, his mouth wet and hungry against Oikawa’s own. Oikawa remembers teeth. That was nice.

 

Ushijima is panting hard in his ear. “See... how well... we...”

 

_Are you kidding me._

 

“You should have... come to...”

 

Oikawa starts screaming shrilly against the shirt fabric stuffed in his mouth.

 

\--

 

 _What the hell_ , Oikawa thinks desperately.

 

Or at least that’s what he tries to think, but it’s dark and stuffy inside this tiny supply closet, it’s absolutely filled with dust and Oikawa feels like he’s going crazy because he keeps wanting to sneeze but he can’t, his nose twitching uncomfortably and his eyes watering. Ushijima has him pressed against the the back wall of the closet and he’s fucking him slow, deep, one hand trying to keep balance against Oikawa’s hip and the other up to the knuckles inside Oikawa’s mouth. Ushijima’s fingers press down on his tongue, and the feel of them, broad, strong, rough with the calluses he knows so well, has Oikawa moaning against them.

 

Ushijima presses his mouth against Oikawa’s hair. “We could have been... so good...”

 

_Are you kidding me._

 

“You should have... come to...”

 

Oikawa starts screaming shrilly against the fingers stuffed in his mouth.

 

\--

 

Oikawa holds up a calendar marked off with red _x_ ’s, shoves it close to Ushijima’s face. “Do you see this, Ushiwaka-chan. These represent the times we have had sex. These also represent the times when neither of us have gotten off because you can’t shut up for a moment.” He shakes the calendar like that would emphasize his point, a little huff of annoyance scrunching his nose. Ushijima looks at him for a moment, face completely impassive.

 

“Oikawa, I’m not wrong. You really should have--”

 

The next practice match they play against each other, Oikawa serves every ball at Ushijima’s face. They don’t even lose, and Oikawa’s smile is so charmingly smug as he rides Ushijima later that evening that Ushijima doesn’t say a single word.

 

 


End file.
